Maybe Someday
by Sincerely V
Summary: another Shoot reunion scenario


A/n: until the premiere of POI I just to wonder how Root and Shaw are going to meet again for the first time. None of these will be connected but they will each be a different way in which Root and Shaw could potentially meet again.

 _Can you hear me?_ The robotic voice sounded off in her ear and she starred down the barrel of her rifle.

"I'm a little busy." She followed her target as he slid out of his hot rod. He stepped onto the curb and threw his keys at the feet of the valet, murmuring something that was probably condescending. Shaw waited patiently as he walked along the brick building. She breathed out and took her shot. He fell quicker than anyone could scream out. Everyone took cover as she unscrewed the pieces of the rifle and put it into its box. She touched her hand to the receiver in her ear and the sickly voice of her employer came on the line.

"All done, Miss Shaw?" His sophisticated accent would be calming if she didn't know all the atrocities he had committed.

"Mission complete, Greer. I'll be headed back to my safe house." She waited for the line to cut out before she started speaking again.

"I'm here." The ear piece buzzed with life again like an old rotary phone.

 _Assets in danger. Assistance necessary._ Shaw rolled her eyes as she grabbed the case. This was the routine ever since she agreed to go under cover for the machine. She would complete missions for Samaritan and then in between shots save Dweedle Dee and Dweedle Death Wish. Ever since Greer had temporarily shut down the machine, Root and John had been even more reckless. The two months of radio silence made Shaw worry if her placement would be permanent. Luckily, they had gotten the Machine back on line and Shaw could hear her again.

"Location?" Information popped up on her phone and she ran down the stairs. She parked her car in the back alley where it wouldn't be obstructed when the police inevitably made it to the site but she couldn't use it if she was going to save Root and John. A motorcycle was parked on the side street and she carefully walked up to it. Luckily, there were specifically no cameras in the area to make the hit job untraceable. She latched her rifle to the back and put her phone in the holder. The GPS was taking her to an abandon warehouse ten miles away.

"Can I get some tactical assessment, please?" The voice murmured in her ear where she needed to park and set up. _Discretion._ She ended.

"I know." Shaw had to always remain unseen. It killed her. Somehow, the Machine was able to integrate itself into Samaritan's system to where it couldn't intercept any of the transmissions with Shaw while she was on the line. Even her car was programmed to indicate that Shaw would be at her safe house in the next hour. However, security cameras could still pick up on her face. It would have to be masks and far away shooting. She pulled up next to empty tower and undid the rifle from the back carrier. Climbing up the ladder, she quickly reassembled the piece, listening to the Machine continue to ramble.

 _North entrance._ Shaw peered into the scope and saw what she was referring to. Reese and Root were being led into the building with guns to their backs. It looked like he had already been knee capped with a bat and Root had taken at least one hit to the face. The men didn't look like Samaritan. Their unflattering turtlenecks and gold chains made Shaw think Russian. She followed them past the door peering through the large window. One man hit Reese over the head causing him to collapse on the ground. The other kicked Root's to her knees. Shaw's finger played on the trigger wanting to end him first.

 _Wait._ The Machine was better at reading people than Shaw gave her credit for. Two more men entered the room and walked in front of her friends. One's head was still obstructed but she could tell by the mass amounts of rings he was wearing he was probably the boss. He kneeled in front of Root and pulled her head back by her hair. Even from hundreds of feet, Shaw could see her lip bleeding and sweat dripping down her forehead. She focused on the man now and couldn't believe her eyes. It was Roman Ivanov the newest leader of the Russian Mafia. Even Samaritan had been after this guy and couldn't find him. As he pulled out a knife from behind him, Shaw tensed up. He put it to Root's neck slowly applying pressure as he was asking her something.

"Now?" Shaw asked impatiently. At the first drip of blood, the guy was getting a bullet to the head. The machine raddled off the order in which she should shoot. Shaw took a breath in and watched as he traced the knife all the way up Root's face to her eye. Breathing out, she knew she would enjoy this one. The first shot blasted through the window panes and landed in the side of his head. As directed, she went for the left guard next, just taking out his knees, and the two goons behind them. It was a clean shoot. Root's head was still lowered probably because she thought one of the bullets was meant for her. Shaw watched her intently, thankful she was called out. She was about to put the rifle down with there was movement behind Root. She shifted the scope but it was too late. She must have missed the last one because he stood up and held his gun to Root again. Shaw fired quickly but it only managed to clip his hand, leaving his bullet to hit Root. She shot again, this time aiming for the kill. He collapsed backwards as Root collapsed forward.

"No!" Shaw threw the rifle away and scaled the tower as quickly as possible. The machine was rattling percentages in her ear. _Percent of asset discovery, 53. Percent of analog interface survival, 15. Course of action, retreat asset._

"She will die if I don't help her. She can't go to a hospital even if I call them." Shaw barely had breath to give her reasoning as she sprinted to the warehouse entrance.

 _Course of action, retreat asset._ The machine repeated. Shaw ignored her. She entered the door and stumbled over shattered glass.

"Root!" She collapsed to the woman. Rolling her over, she checked the wound. It was nearly a through and through from her back to her chest. The blood was coming fast. There was no way of knowing what major vessels were hit without light and equipment. She took the knife that was laying on the ground and cut the rope that bound her hands.

"Come on." Shaw was increasingly worried, as Root was already mostly unconscious. Shaw undid her jacket and shirt and pressed them to the wounds.

"Find me an exit." She yelled into the air. She waited for what felt like eternity.

 _Unoccupied ambulance one mile away._ Shaw quickly took off her heeled shoes and wrapped the jacket better around Root's side. She leaned back and checked Reese's pulse. Seeing that he was alive, just unconscious, she decided to leave him. She scooped Root into her arms and adjusted her until her head rested on her chest.

"Do not die on me." She looked down at the barely breathing woman. She began running in the direction she was told. The gravel at her feet, pierced through her skin but the adrenaline allowed her to push through it. As she ran, she could feel the blood dripping from her hands. She didn't stop though. Even as her lungs burned for a break, she willed herself to move faster. The machine counted down the distance in her mind, every step raising the analog interface's chance of survival. _Zero point five miles, 34 percent. Zero point four miles, 42 percent. Zero point three miles, 51 percent._ As Shaw turned the last corner, she could see the large van ahead. She sprinted like she had never before. When she reached the vehicle, it was locked. She set Root down, carefully. Her hands moved to the back door, too soaked to maneuver a pick locking kit. She removed the small pistol from her ankle and shot it several times at the lock. Discretion was no longer an option. She yanked open the doors and pulled Root in, laying her on the gurney.

"Scalpel." She rummaged through the supplies and found the tool of interest. She also found other things that would prove useful including gauze and an IV bag. Shaw had to be precise about her treatment approach. If she didn't get her fluids, Root would bleed out. If there were vessels ruptured that weren't tied off, she would bleed out. If a fragment hit her heart, she would bleed out. She decided to go for the wound first. She used the scalpel to tear the shirt away. She put her hand at the entrance wound and tried to estimate the trajectory of the bullet. She could see bruising on her upper chest where it probably stopped. She breathed a sigh of relief knowing that it didn't go far enough to hit her heart. The loss of blood was still bad enough though, that she wasn't out of the woods. She put on gloves and rubbed iodine over Root's chest. Shaw made a small incision below her scapula and gently put a finger in to open the incision. As she did, she felt something that didn't belong. She quickly grabbed forceps and reached into the wound, carefully removing the bullet.

"Gotcha." She flushed the wound thoroughly on both side and cleaned the margins. There was only one bottle of lidocaine which meant this was going to be painful. She injected both sites sparingly, in case she needed more. The only sutures they had were nylon which would leave a large scar. She made the area as sterile as possible and used the forceps to grab the needle of the suture. Before she started, she ran a hand over Root's head, wiping the sweat drenched hair out of her face. This was the first time in months that they had been so close. It felt unreal that she could touch her, feel her heart beat. All she wanted now, more than anything was to hear her voice. Shaw would give up every other sense, her world turned to black, if only to listen to Root say a single word again. Her voice was the only weakness Shaw had. It was her Achilles heel. Somehow, when she spoke, it was a direct line to the small place in Shaw's being where emotion existed; akin to the euphoria Root experienced when the Machine whispered to her. It was listening to a god. And now god was silent.

"Please be okay." Shaw started her work. It took ten minutes to roughly patch her up. Her next problem was the blood loss. Gunshot wounds that miss vital organs are still fatal because of blood loss and infection. She opened every bin in the truck until she found what she was looking for. Tying a rubber band around her arm, she stuck herself in the artery by her wrist and connected the other needle into Root's vein using the Crile method. Although it was difficult to move, she was able to set up an IV of fluids into Root's other arm. She sat for several minutes.

"Prognosis?"

 _82 percent. Medical assistance en route. Retreat Asset._

"I can't leave her like this."

 _Harold is coming._ This didn't reassure her. Her hand had unconsciously drifted down the bed to where Root's was. The back of their fingers grazed until Shaw swallowed her pride and clasped the woman's hand.

"How long?"

 _Five minutes._ She cursed at the ceiling, running her free hand over her face. She looked down at Root's paleness. Her pulse and pressure were steady but she still looked frail. Shaw undid their transfusion and wrapped the evidence of her blood in a bag, along with her sweatshirt and tee. She grabbed Root's hand again and brought in to her mouth, kissing it.

"The next time we see each other it will be for good. I promise."

 _You cannot promise that._

Shaw turned off the com completely. She moved her hand through Root's hair again, laying it away from the cuts on her face. In her life, she never felt like a tinder person. She muscled through everything she did because it was uncomplicated. Root was the only exception. It was infuriating how much she felt for this woman. She leaned over the bed and ran her thumb over every scar on her face, memorizing it. This is why she went through months of torture. This is why she has agreed to treat Greer like a friend and Samaritan like a god. She would destroy herself and the world for this face-for this voice. The timer in her head signaled that it was time for her to go. She kissed Root's forehead and ran a hand over her cheek. Grabbing the bag of evidence, she may her way out the door. As she opened the door, her wrist was caught suddenly, the weak grasp barely holding on.

"Sameen?" The voice. Her goddess. Even in its weakness, it drew her in.

"I have to go." She didn't turn, for fear her body would betray her.

"Have you betrayed us?" She sat up to the best of her ability. Shaw had every intention of still walking away until Root spoke again.

"Will you ever come back.." Root's voice broke. "…to me?" Her voice was even weaker, breaking Shaw's will. Shaw turned quickly, before losing her nerve or blowing her cover. Although her action was desperate, her approach was gentle given Root's injuries. She traveled the step to her face and leaned over, taking Root's bottom lip into her mouth. It wasn't as quick as their last kiss. The stakes weren't as high, the threat not as imminent. But there was desperation. Root shakily brought her arm up, still attached to the IV and put it to the side of Shaw's face bringing them closer together. Shaw did the same, lacing her hand behind Root's neck until the only space between them was the oxygen they weren't using. Shaw broke first but Root refused to let go, bringing her down one last time. They held themselves in that space, breathing heavily not wanting to open their eyes.

"Someday when there isn't an AI apocalypse, we will talk about it." She whispered.

"Maybe someday?" A tear was forming at Root's eye. It wasn't from pain or sadness. It was hope, real confirmation that Shaw hadn't truly abandoned them.

"Yeah, Root. Is that good enough for you?" she smiled for the first time in months. Something real outside of what she had to fake for Greer.

"Yeah sweetie, that's good enough for me." She brushed away the hair that had fallen in Shaw's face, and ran a thumb over her bottom lip, studying it as one does rare art.

"Miss Groves?" Harold's voice could be heard not far away. Shaw stood up and she could see him approaching out of the front window.

"He can't see me and you can't tell anyone." Root nodded reluctantly. Shaw squeezed her hand and looked into her eyes for what was hopefully not the last time. It amazed her that a person's eyes could be such a mystery even though she was sure she had starred into them a thousand times. She willed herself to let go and jumped out the back, looping around the side outside of Harold's site.

"Miss Groves, how have you come to be here?" Root hesitated and then tapped on her ear piece.

"The Machine sent me an angel."


End file.
